


Paints a Pattern on My Wall

by Poppets



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Denial, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Emotional Constipation, First Time, Frottage, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Patterns, Sexy Times, Stiles Stilinski Is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 17:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20012362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppets/pseuds/Poppets
Summary: The first time was an accident.The second was a pattern.The third was a habit.The fourth an obsession.





	Paints a Pattern on My Wall

**1: Accidents Happen**

* * *

Stiles sagged against a tree. He felt slightly dazed, probably from the head wound, or maybe it was just due to the trauma that had been his day.

“I nearly died,” he spoke the words out loud. They’d been bouncing through his brain on an endless loop. Maybe if he voiced them, they’d sound less crazy. “I nearly died.”

Derek didn’t respond as he continued his slow progress around the perimeter of the clearing, pausing to extinguish candles that had been set at regular intervals.

“Those assholes actually tried to sacrifice me. I swear I can still feel that dagger piercing my skin.” Stiles pressed a hand to the slight throbbing in the centre of his chest. He glanced back up to see Derek watching him, eyes fixed to the slight tear in Stiles’ shirt and the dark stain of blood surrounding it.

Stiles could vividly recall the feel of the blade piercing his skin; the sudden clarity that this was it, this was how he died and then the overwhelming relief when the blade was wrenched away an instant before it would have plunged deep.

“I nearly died,” he gasped, adrenalin fading to be replaced by a flood of sheer terror. His hand fisted unconsciously in the material over his wound. “I nearly died.” His breath sawed harshly between chapped lips, growing desperate with every struggling inhale. The panic attack rose up like a wave, unbidden and unstoppable. “I nearly died. I nearly died. I ne-“

“Stiles!” Derek’s hands were on his shoulders, grip tight. “You didn’t die. You’re alive.” He shook Stiles roughly. “Did you hear me! You’re alive. We got to you in time.”

Stiles shuddered and sagged into Derek’s grip. “Yeah, I heard you. I’m alive.” He let his head drop forward, forehead pressed to Derek’s sternum. He’d let himself be embarrassed by the display of weakness later, right now the steady thump of Derek’s heartbeat against his skin was soothing. “I’m alive.” His breathing slowed, becoming easier. “What happened to them?”

“One’s dead.” Derek tilted his head towards the dismembered body lying just outside the ring of trees. “Scott and the others are hunting down the remaining 3. They’ll catch them.”

“And they’ll kill them?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I mean, I know I shouldn’t wish for anyone to die, but these assholes deserve it. They tried to fucking kill me, after all.” Stiles jerked his head up. “And you know what the worst part is?”

Derek shook his head.

“It was completely random. They didn’t pick me for any particular reason. I wasn’t singled out as a source of untapped power, or because of my connection with werewolves. They just needed a body, _any body_ , and I was the first person they saw. I nearly died and it wouldn’t have meant anything! After everything I’ve been through since Scott was bit; the number of times I nearly died saving my friends and this stupid fucking town, and then to die as some anonymous vessel would be so fucking unfair. And I just, I just…” Stiles broke off with a growl; frustrated with his inability to articulate what he was feeling.

“It’s ok, Stiles. You’re alive and that’s all that matters.”

Stiles glared at Derek. Was he being deliberately obtuse? That wasn’t all that mattered! There were so many times he’d held himself back, so many things he hadn’t done, so many he wouldn’t have had a chance to experience. With a growl, Stiles surged upwards and crushed their mouths together. It held little resemblance to a kiss – too hard, too awkward, to unforgiving. Derek had gone stock still, neither encouraging nor pulling away.

Shocked at himself, Stiles stepped back. His lips parted, framing around the word ‘sorry’, but he never got the chance to give it voice because Derek pressed forward and captured Stiles’ lips in a punishing kiss. Derek’s tongue nudged at Stiles’ closed lips, demanding entry. With a groan, Stiles gave himself over to the slick invasion. His hands moved to grip the back of Derek’s shirt, fisting handfuls of material and pulling too hard, too tight. Derek made no moved to stop him, just dragged Stiles closer, hands dropping to Stiles’ ass and lifting, urging his legs around his hips as he shoved him back hard against a tree.

Stiles moaned and rolled his hips down, riding the hard ridge in Derek’s jeans. He felt Derek’s grip tighten and the sharp prick of claws piercing his skin as Derek bucked upward. He set a brutal pace, desperate lunges that shunted Stiles against the tree as their cocks ground together.

The friction was too fucking good, the painful bite of denim against Stiles’ cock doing nothing to erode the pleasure. He tore his mouth free of Derek’s, pulling in desperate lungfuls of air.

“Fuck, Derek, please. I’m so fucking close.”

Derek growled, teeth nipping at Stiles’ throat. “Then come for me.”

Stiles whimpered, squirming in Derek’s grip, searching desperately for that perfect bit of friction that would send him over the edge. Derek rolled his hips up once, twice, and Stiles was gone; keening as he came. Derek dropped his head to Stiles’ shoulder, hips stuttering as he shuddered through his own orgasm.

They hung together, unmoving, for several long moments. Eventually Stiles unhooked his legs and let them drop back to the ground. Derek took a step backward and out of Stiles’ grasp.

Silence stretched uncomfortably between them, neither quite sure how to react.

“We don’t have to talk about this.” Stiles blurted out in a rush. “It didn’t mean anything. It was the adrenalin from the fight and needing to know I was still alive. It was a perfectly normal response to a near-death situation.” Stiles didn’t know if he trying to convince Derek or himself. “Let’s just forget it happened.” He forced out a tight laugh. “And maybe we should bury what’s left of that witch while we wait for the others.”

Derek nodded jerkily, his face not giving away any of what he was thinking. “Yeah, ok.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Simon and Garfunkel song ‘Patterns’


End file.
